As much as I’m enjoying the fact that I am currently working, work sucks major monkeyballs. Though, I suppose I could attribute that to one person (the Angry One) creating a tense and overall hostile environment in our training group. We’ve been working there for almost two weeks now and he’s blown up at all of us three times now, twice while the teacher was leading the group. I honestly feel like a horrible person for hoping that he does not make it through training. Today he exploded at us for the third time and this time I felt him direct it at me, despite the fact that he didn’t outright blame me. (I did what I was supposed to, just to be clear. He just wasn’t paying attention.)
Also today I saw my old supervisor (codename: the Tall One). I was too far away to say hi, and when I waved he completely ignored me. Oh, sure, he’ll -claim- he didn’t see me, but we all really know what it was lol. Okay, he really didn’t see me and he was in a bit of a rush. I just like giving him a bit of a hard time. Have to have fun somehow, y’know…
But… I suppose what’s really bothering me is how unhappy I actually am. It’s funny. I was at my happiest and then almost out of nowhere I’m suddenly not. The Stray and I still talk, but it’s nothing like it used to be. I miss how easy and open our talks once were, how happy they were. Now all it takes is a few words to dredge up all of the pain, all of the anger, and all of the sadness. I’d almost rather be angry with the Stray than cry myself to sleep, though that’s what I tend to do anyway. The words “There are plenty of other girls just waiting to take your spot” still haunt me, still dig a knife deeper into my chest, still ring out as “You’re easily replaceable.”
I was replaced within a couple of weeks.
And now to hear about her, to hear how wonderful and sweet she is, to hear everything I’m not or can’t be right now… deeper still. Is it any wonder that when I get a disappointed sigh from the Stray I turn angry? I’m not a Stray. In softer times I might be called a kitten, but I feel more like a bird in a cage and even when the door is opened, my foot is still tethered to the perch by a narrow golden chain. It’s not long now, though. There is a weak link, and soon I should be able to break free. I just have to choose my moment carefully.
“I’m not going to be the one who waits, patiently, for something that’s likely never to happen,” still sounds like “you’re not worth waiting for.” It certainly looks that way too. So why the disappointed sighs that piss me off so much, as if an unfair judgement has just rained down from above? I can’t act free because I’m not. Not yet. I can rail to the sky that my life is unfair but this girl in a cage hasn’t energy to spare. Not if I’m to escape and finally fly free. Though, I’m still angry to hear that it’s hell to wait an eternity and then to hear that I don’t understand when it should be obvious that I actually do.
But then again, what do I know? I’m just a girl who likens herself to a kitten that’s probably all fluff and razorblades right now and a bird whose feathers are all ruffled and puffed up.